


for old time’s sake

by undodgedbullet



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Begging, Dirty Talk, F/M, Pegging, Praise Kink, can y'all tell i have a thing for Missy talking about herself in the third person, no one read this thanks, some heart to heart convos, the strapon fic we all deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 11:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18051332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undodgedbullet/pseuds/undodgedbullet
Summary: While in the vault, Missy has a lot to think about.





	for old time’s sake

**Author's Note:**

> if you see the word "joystick" in this, blame my gf

“What do you think about, Doctor?”

 

He looks up as her fingers stop their playing mid-song and she swivels her body on the piano bench so that she’s done a one eighty and is now facing him. He doesn’t say anything at first because he thinks she’s going to clarify what she means but she’s silent and he realizes she’s expecting an answer.

 

“What, in general?” he asks when he finally speaks up. She nods, and he doesn’t quite know how to answer because there are a lot of different things that go through his brain on the daily. It’s a good question, because trying to see things from other people’s point of views is a notion her past few regenerations haven’t been particularly fond of, but he finds himself struggling to come up with a response. “Well, I think about what I’m going to lecture my students. Or where I’m going to take Bill next. Or about River. Or if you’re doing okay.”

 

“Mm.” She makes a noncommittal sound but doesn’t say anything more, her expression contemplative as if she’s mulling over his answer in her head. Lost in thought, she swivels herself back around and begins playing another song without another word. The Doctor is still confused but he remains silent, allowing himself to get lost in her music again. He doesn’t know how long they stay like this, connected only by the sound of her fingers softly working the keys. He’s so focused on the song she’s playing that he almost doesn’t hear her when she says, “I’ve been thinking about how things used to be, lately. When we were still on Gallifrey. Just children, when the only things we needed was us and our friendship. Do you ever think about that?”

 

Missy’s never been one for talking about foolish things like _feelings_ but she’s definitely improved in that area, now able to discuss that kind of thing unprompted. It probably helps that her back is to him and the piano playing is able to serve as a physical distraction and the air is filled with a song she knows very well instead of silence, but she really has been making progress. They still have a very long way to go but he’s glad she can freely talk to him about this.

 

“I do,” the Doctor admits, because _of course_ he thinks about it. Missy is his oldest friend, between the two of them they’ve known each other for almost one hundred regenerations. He thinks about it quite often. What they used to be, what they are, what they will be, what they never were. They might have been enemies for a while but in the end, they’ll always find their way to each other. “The memories we made are some of my very favorites.”

 

She stops playing for a moment, as if she’s surprised by his words, then immediately resumes like nothing had even happened. Neither of them says anything more on the matter until the night has passed.

 

 

* * *

 

  

“I really don’t understand why humans find this entertaining.”

 

The credits to _Frozen_ roll up on the screen and the Doctor laughs, shaking his head fondly at her as he gets up to pause it and remove it from the player.

 

“Well, you know humans,” he tells her. “But if you hate it so much, I don’t know why you insisted on finishing the entire thing. Or why this is, what, the sixth time we’ve watched it?”

 

Missy ignores his last comment, waiting for him to come sit back down next to her. There’s a silence for a moment, mostly comfortable, and then she says, “I’ve been thinking about all those years ago, when we were both young. When you had that...” She pauses, trying to think of the correct word. “Friend. Miss Grant.”

 

“Oh, Jo, what about her?” the Doctor asks, settling into his seat.

 

“Well, I did... a lot of things during that time. You know, bad things. And you couldn’t get away but you also still put up with me when you didn’t have to. You even saved me when you could’ve easily gotten rid of me for good.”

 

“Are you asking why?” the Doctor asks, frowning. “I did it because I know you. You’re my best friend—”

 

“No,” Missy interrupts. “I’m not asking why, I already know why. I just want to know... do you ever regret it?”

 

“Regret what? Saving you?” His frown deepens.

 

“Yes. All of it, everything. I caused a lot of destruction and pain and death for a lot of people and it all could have been avoided if I wasn’t around.” She says it like it’s obvious, like she thinks he really _should_ be regretting it.

 

“No, I don’t,” he says firmly. “Of course I don’t, Missy. Do you think you’d be alive if I regretted it? Do you think we’d be here having this conversation right now if I regretted it? I know you’ve done more bad things than I can even try to imagine, but so have I. I have done things that I’ll never forgive myself for but I’m able to still go on because I know I’m trying to do what’s right. And I don’t know who I’d be without you but I don’t think you not being here would have made me any better.”

 

She doesn’t respond for a few minutes until she softly says, “Okay.”

 

He reaches over to take her hand, giving her a soft smile. “I have a class to lecture in a few minutes but I’ll be back tonight. Why don’t you come up with another list of things you might want me to get for you? I’ll have Nardole come and get it in a bit. You might have to be locked in this vault for a thousand years but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to make you comfortable.”

 

She nods, returns his smile, and watches as he gets up to leave.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 “Do you really want— _this?_ ”

 

Missy looks up from her book as he enters the vault with a piece of paper in his hand and a shade of red on his cheeks.

 

“Well, hello to you too.” She recognizes the paper he’s holding as the list of items she’s requesting he get her and tries to stifle her smirk, knowing exactly why he’s so riled up. “Well, yes, I want everything I put on there. Why would I ask you to get me something I don’t want?”

 

“I just thought... well, are you sure you want the last two things on here?” He shoves the paper at her, like it’s going to explode if he holds it any longer.

 

She blinks at him innocently, taking the paper and placing it on the table next to her without even glancing at it. “Of course I do. _Everyone_ needs a purple strap-on, and using one without lubricant is just evil.”

 

He stares at her. “But what would you use it for? You’re stuck in here for a thousand years.”

 

“Well.” She pretends to think consider it. “I was thinking... you, dear.”

 

“Me?” he asks. He falters for a moment and she can tell where his mind has just gone. This is much easier than she thought it’d be.

 

“Yes, you. You couldn’t seem to get enough of it when my past bodies had real ones so this is the next best thing,” she explains, as if it’s obvious. “Honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t think of doing this sooner. I’ve been thinking about having you from the first time I ever laid my eyes on you. You’re just so pretty this time around, aren’t you? I’m glad this one’s older, at least you’re not running around with the face of a five year old anymore. And if I’m being honest, I quite like the grey hair and wrinkles. Makes you look more... I don’t know, dignified in a way. How’s a girl supposed to control herself around you when you look like _that?_ ”

 

The Doctor doesn’t say anything to that but his eyes flash with something that Missy hopes is want. She doesn’t have time to really look because within a few seconds he’s reaching over to take the paper before turning around and rushing out of the room, but she doesn’t feel too bad about scaring him off because he had made sure to take her list with him before he left.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 “Why don’t we do it the old fashioned way? For old time’s sake.”

 

It’s a few days later when Missy asks this, pretty much out of the blue. The Doctor had known this was coming but he still finds himself surprised, flustered by her suggestion. He raises an eyebrow at her and tries not to let on how affected by this idea he really is. Of course, her growing smirk tells him she sees right through him.

 

“What you’re suggesting is _not_ old fashioned.” It’s a weak protest but it’s all he can come up with. He’s found this body’s preferences are much different than his last one when it comes to this kind of thing, but there is a part of him that wants this because, well, she _is_ his Master after all.

 

“Oh, you’re right. I always forget how slow humans are to normalize good practices. Well, either way. It’s old fashioned for _us_.” She bites her bottom lip and widens her eyes a bit, bringing one of her hands up to play with the top button of her blouse, making sure she holds his gaze the entire time. “Come on Doctor, I know you. I know you like this idea. I know you want me to f—”

 

He surges forward to kiss her, cutting her off mid-sentence, suddenly filled with more need than he knows what to do with. He can literally feel it, the desire coursing through his blood, and she must feel it too because she kisses him back with just as much intensity as him, her hands sliding into his hair. His own hands wander anywhere they can reach, like he can’t get enough of her. He pulls her against him because he needs her closer, he needs her everywhere— all around him and in him and with him.

 

“Missy,” he gasps out, breaking the kiss but still practically keeping their lips pressed together because he doesn’t think he could stand it if he’s not as close to her as he can possibly be. He rolls his hips against hers and her breath hitches but she laughs, as if she isn’t as affected by all this as he is. “Missy, I need—”

 

“Someone seems eager,” she comments, her hand moving down to brush against the front of his trousers. “But if you _really_ don’t want to, then that’s fine. I have other ways of satisfying myself.”

 

She drops her hand and begins to step away and he immediately grabs her arm before she gets any further. She pretends to look surprised, but they both knew it would come down to this from the moment she first brought it up.

 

“Missy, no.” He tugs her back to him, then nods. “I— yes.”

 

“Yes?” she repeats, giving him a smile that under any other circumstances would make him scared, but maybe he’s even scared now. “So you’re going to be a good boy for me and let me take you?”

 

“Yes, whatever you want, yes.” He kisses her again, needing to channel his desperation out somehow, and she allows him this for a few seconds before she steps back. She gives him an exaggerated wink and heads over to the table next to her bed where she has all the needed supplies. She motions for him to come over and he’s there in seconds, Missy’s hands on him already as she begins to take off his sweater and shirt. She pushes him down on the bed, climbing on top, unbuttoning her blouse and then his trousers. She pulls it off, bringing his underwear along with it, tosses them to the floor, and then smirks down at the sight before her.

 

“Well, it seems this is one of your more impressive bodies,” she comments in approval, placing a finger on his chest and running it down his stomach, delighted when he arches up into her touch. “This one is so sensitive, too. Reminds me of the pretty blonde one with the ridiculous vegetable.”

 

“The celery was _not_ ridiculous—”

 

“He was probably my favorite you,” she interrupts, not really willing to hear him go off on a tangent about how the celery was actually really practical and helpful. She leans over him to get the things on the table and places them on the bed next to the Doctor, not missing the way his eyes flicker between them and her. She continues almost conversationally, “I loved making him scream. Or cry. He was so fun, all I had to do was look at him or touch him a certain way and he’d fall to his knees in front of me within seconds.”

 

“I think you might be exaggerating a little,” the Doctor mumbles, watching as Missy sheds the rest of her clothing, tossing them among the Doctor’s on the floor, but he remembers very well how things were when he was on his fifth body and Missy had a beard. Things have changed, _they_ have changed, but it’s the Doctor and the Master like it’s always been.

 

“You keep telling yourself that.” She leans down to press her mouth to his neck where she alternates between sharp bites and gentle kisses, his gasps as he squirms underneath her only spurring her on.  She makes her way down to his stomach and then straightens up, her eyes predatory when he meets her gaze and she sees how debauched he already looks. “What do you want, Doctor?”

 

“I want,” he begins, trying to remember how words work. “I want— I need you.”

 

“It certainly appears that way,” she says with a nod at his erection, which is making itself very obvious and he looks away, feeling like he’s going to implode if she doesn’t do something soon.

 

“Can we just get on with it already?” he asks, clearly impatient.

 

“Maybe.” Missy pretends to think about it and then takes one of the items, the bottle of lube, and watches as the Doctor’s eyes drop to her hands. “If you’re good and ask nicely.”

 

He clears his throat, meeting her eyes again. He looks completely wrecked despite nothing having even happened yet and she can’t help the shiver that runs through her because he’s in this state because of _her_. His words come out in a rush when he says, “Please. I need you, I need you inside me, please.”

 

“Is that so?” she asks, opening the bottle to pour its contents onto her hand. He swallows hard and nods eagerly, anything to get her to hurry up and do what they’ve both been waiting for. She gives him a smile, all daunting and possessive. “Say my name.”

 

He knows what _he_ wants but he doesn’t know which one she means. It could be Missy or Mistress or—

 

“ _Master_.” It comes out before he realizes he’s saying anything but it must be the right answer because she stares at him for a moment and then quickly leans forward, her free hand making its way into his hair to yank his head closer so their lips can meet. She kisses him like she owns his mouth, like she owns _him_ , but then she’s gone and he has to physically hold himself back so he doesn’t chase after her. “Master, please.”

 

“Good boy,” she murmurs, breathless, then rubs her hands together and approaches his entrance with her pointer finger. He shifts slightly, pushing his hips forward, biting hard on his bottom lip as she enters. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Always so good for your Master.”

 

It’s not long before more lube, more fingers are added and the Doctor shuts his eyes tightly as he allows himself to get lost in the sensation, gasping as she hits that spot, curling her fingers. “I— please, Master.”

 

He’s trembling, practically vibrating with need. He makes a sound at the sudden loss when she removes her fingers. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” she says as she takes the strap-on, the same purple one he had gotten for her just days before, adding a generous amount of lube while he watches with half-opened eyes. “Are you ready to take a ride on my joystick?”

 

“Your _joysti_ —” he begins, his retort cut off and turned into a low moan as she enters him. She stays still, allowing him to adjust, beginning to lose her own resolve as she watches his entire body shudder.

 

“All right?” she asks, voice strained.

 

“ _Yes_.” He immediately nods and she slowly starts to move. He’s making little noises that he probably doesn’t even know he’s making and he looks up at her, eyes pleading. “Master, please, more, I need— more.”

 

“Have you thought about _this_ , Doctor? Have you thought about being taken completely by your Master again?” she asks, beginning to move faster but still not fast enough. “Because I have. Every night when I’m alone, I think about you all desperate and begging for me, wanting nothing more than to be under my control. Exactly as you are now. Have you thought about it too?”

 

“Of course I have.” He struggles to keep himself coherent as he thinks about everything he’s ever imagined her doing to him; sometimes he hates that they’ve known each other for as long as they have because it means she knows _exactly_ what to do to make him want her so badly he aches. She sharply thrusts her hips forward and his mouth falls open, along with his mind. He feels her presence and then she’s _everywhere_ — all around him and in him and with him. He hasn’t felt this with her in so long that it’s overwhelming and suddenly he’s brought back hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years and worlds away, to the first time they ever did this. Memories make their way from her brain to his and he sees them back on Gallifrey, he sees them when he was stranded on Earth and she basically followed him there, when it was ages later and they were on the cheetah planet, when they are now in a vault together with one of them stuck here for a millennium. “I’ve thought about it— you a lot.”

 

“Yeah?” she asks, and he’s not sure if she’s talking to him out loud or directly into his mind but it doesn’t matter, he can’t focus on it enough to care. “You’ve thought about it, your Master _wrecking_ you? Utterly _destroying_ you? Ruining you to the point where the only thing you can think is my name?”

 

“Master,” he gasps, basically proving her point. The word echoes into her ears and out through his, and it’s almost too much when she finally gets to a quick enough pace. He begins to move his hand down because as overwhelming as it is he needs it, he _needs_ more, but Missy grabs his hand before he can get anywhere.

 

“No touching,” she tells him, her hand on his like electricity going through him; he’s been electrocuted before but that has _nothing_ on this. His whine makes her grip on him tighten as she starts to lose her own control. “You come like this or not at all.”

 

“I can’t,” he says, back arching on its own accord, because it’s been too long since the last time they did this, he really doesn’t know if he can anymore.

 

“You _can_. You can, come on, Doctor, you’ve been so good for me, you’re such a good boy.” Her own voice is ragged and he can tell she’s close too and that alone is almost enough to send him over. She’s able to sense this and tells him, “Come for your Master.”

 

It’s not a suggestion, not a request, but an order and he has no choice but to obey, losing all sense of anything around him that isn’t her as he does. His eyes shut and everything turns black and he vaguely hears her own moans from among the stars.

 

When he opens his eyes again, she’s stroking his hair from her spot curled up next to him.

 

“Ma— Missy,” he mumbles, reaching out to pull her closer to him.

 

She makes a sound of content and smiles at him. “You okay?”

 

He nods and presses a kiss to her cheek, she takes his hand in hers.

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i was not intending for anybody to end up seeing this but then it ended up being like 3k words & someone specifically told me they wanted to read it sooooooo i guess i'm posting it smh


End file.
